I serve none.

Your voice sounds once more, a pale light pulsing across the onlookers with each syllable. “I serve none.”

Again the old man reaches for a mysterious pouch and casts it into the flaming water, and again your world suffocates in a torrent of agony.

Voices stir you to consciousness and robed figures surround you. One steps forth, “Hear and understand. You are born of the Sacred Light of Areh, bound by the divinity of the Archon Kings. In the name of the Nameless, on pain of ****, you are a servant of the Cleansing Flame!”